


frustrations all around

by petulantbitch



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Background Rita (Penumbra Podcast), Buddy Aurinko - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jet Siquliak - Freeform, Juno Steel Needs a Hug, Juno Steel is in Love, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Buddy Aurinko/Vespa, POV Juno Steel, POV Peter Nureyev, Peter Nureyev Can't Cook, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Psychological Trauma, Rita & Juno Steel Friendship, Rita is a Good Friend (Penumbra Podcast), Sad Peter Nureyev, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Trust Issues, Vespa Ilkay - Freeform, also i can't write long chapters so i'm sorry they're all so short, i write juno steel like i'd write myself and it seems to work so, jupeter, peter and juno need to just realize they're loved, they make brownies cause i say so, this is my first fic in 3 years i'm so sorry, this is rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petulantbitch/pseuds/petulantbitch
Summary: Juno and Peter have issues working through their emotions after... that night.That's literally the whole fic.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev & Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	1. 1

It’s funny, really, how having feelings for someone can hurt so bad.

Love is a tricky thing, and it can hit you like a truck and completely change everything you thought you knew about yourself. And to be honest? I really wish I avoided it. I’m in so deep I really can’t escape it. Running away did nothing. I want nothing more than to fix it, make up for that night. I can’t, though, as Nureyev refuses to talk about it. Which is going to make today rather awkward for both of us. 

Buddy decided that we all need a “break,” so we’ve stopped on some colony with a name I couldn’t have been bothered to pay attention to. And, playing mother, as usual, she’s insisted on us using the “buddy system” (ironic, I know) to avoid someone getting into trouble. Vespa clung to Buddy, no surprise there. Rita and Jet headed off together almost immediately. Which leaves… me and Nureyev. I don’t know if they all planned this to get us to make up or something, but it probably won’t work. He hasn’t looked at me once and we’ve been walking around for hours.

“Juno, is there somewhere you would like to go? You’ve been charging ahead rather aimlessly, and we haven’t stopped once.” There was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke, assuring me that he was just as uncomfortable with the situation as I am. But at least he’s looking at me now. God, he hasn’t looked at me in so damn long. And his gaze is soften-

The moment we make eye contact he looks away. Of course, he looks away. 

“I don’t know, maybe we could get a drink? I think we passed a bar a little bit ago- We could just turn around or something. Unless there’s something you wanna do?” I really hope there isn’t, I could use a little buzz right now.

And even before I’m finished asking, he’s laughing. It’s a cold, short, empty laugh, a laugh that makes my heart sink a little. “Something I want to do? How considerate. No, the bar is fine. You can get your drink.” Without looking at me again, he turns on his heel and heads towards the bar, head held high, face devoid of any emotion. 

It makes me want to yell. Not necessarily at him, but just in general. Of course, Buddy would probably lecture me endlessly if I caused a scene, so I won’t.

It also makes me wish I could turn it off as easily as he can. Instead, I’m following him to the bar, the frustration clearly written on my face. I don’t even need to see it- I can feel it.

The bar is pretty packed, which makes sense, as it’s early evening at the end of the week. I manage to find us a small table towards the back though, just two chairs. Which means we’re essentially alone; just the two of us, and the vodka I bought. Despite the rather loud bar atmosphere, it feels too quiet. I wanted a drink to get out of my head for a while, but I’m not sure this is helping. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s just watching me. Watching me with cold eyes, betraying absolutely nothing. And I hate it. I want back the Peter from that night.

“What night, Juno? I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” He scoffed softly, and I feel a wave of terror wash over me as I realize that I’d said that out loud. But in a second, that terror was replaced by more frustration. 

“Are you really just going to go through life ignoring it? Pretending that it didn’t happen?” I snapped at him, unable to control the words as they left my mouth. “Because honestly, I can’t do that. I’ve been trying, y’know? I really have been. Figured it might help to give you some space since I joined up on the Carte Blanche, but this is getting ridiculous! You won’t even look at me. Look at me, dammit!” At that, he flinched a little. He actually flinched, his composure wavering for just a second. And I almost apologized. But of course, he got it all back together, really quick, pushing back his chair and standing up.

“I think we should head back.” 

That was it? That was all he had to say? You’ve got to be kidding me. “I- Really? Actually- Fine.” I stood up, knocking my chair back, wobbling a little. I may have drunk more than I should have. “Let’s head back.” I walked out of the bar at that, pushing past other people. I really shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did, because the moment I got out of the door, I tripped, falling flat on my face. Rolling over, I find Nureyev standing over top of me, looking slightly worried. I think it’s the most emotion he’s shown all night, but it’s far from comforting. 

“Are you alright? Do you need help up?” He holds out his hand for me to grab, slender fingers outstretched. Grabbing his hand would make sense, it’d be the right thing to do. But I don’t. I push myself up, brushing his hand away as I stood. I would move to leave again, continue storming away… but he’s looking at me. Actually, really looking at me this time. “Juno…” God the way he says my name makes me want to kiss him. Makes me wish he would kiss me- He is looking at my lips. But not now. It- It doesn’t feel right? So I just shake my head a little and look away. 

“Can we just talk? When we’re back?” Looking back at him, I smile slightly. “Please?” Nureyev nods and swallows thickly, even more peeking through his cold, emotionless mask. I think it’s just a little anxiety, but I’m not completely sure. It’s hard to tell. But as we turn back and walk towards the Carte Blanche, we’re a lot closer together than we were before, and the heat rolling off of him provides a little dampener for the cold winds blowing through the streets.

Back at the Carte Blanche, I find myself seated on my bed next to Nureyev. We’re both completely silent, as I don’t know what to say. And I assume he doesn’t either, as he’s just picking at his cuticles and sneaking glances at me every few seconds. Clearing my throat, I turn towards him a little. “We said we would talk, so that’s what we’re going to do. I suppose I should start off by officially apologizing for… for leaving. I shouldn’t have just left. It was a fucked thing to do.” He laughed a little, the same cold, empty laugh from earlier. 

“That’s certainly one way to put it.” Nureyev looked over at me, head tilted to the side as he stared. “I’m not entirely sure I accept your apology yet, though, no matter how much I appreciate it.” I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again, chewing on my lip. I should explain myself, explain why I left. But even now, I’m not entirely sure what to say about it. 

“It’s just hard for me to, y’know, believe that someone would actually want to run away with me or something. That someone would actually feel the way about me you said you did. It’s also scary that that’s even a possibility because frankly, I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I’m-”

“You’re an extremely attractive person with commitment issues and the emotional intelligence of a teaspoon, yes. That’s actually quite a relief, as strange as that sounds.” He rubbed the back of his neck before briefing pinching the bridge of his nose. “I had worried that it was something else. No matter how much I tried to push those worries away, the always managed to worm their way into my mind. Not that they’re in any way important now.” With a sigh, he pushed himself up off my bed, standing to face me. “Now, if we’re done, I’d like to go take a bath. That bar you dragged us into smelled rather foul, and I’d rather not carry the smell with me longer than I have to.” The chill had returned to his voice, and it left me feeling almost as angry as I did in the bar. It’s been so long now, you’d have thought he’d be able to talk it out. 

“Fine. Just file away your feelings and refuse to heal. I hope you enjoy your bath.” Flopping back on my bed, I stared at the wall and listened to his heels click against the floor as he walked away, the sound getting fainter and fainter. 

Should I even be as angry as I am? Is that even fair? I obviously hurt him… But that doesn’t give him the right to be a cold bastard when I’m trying to fix things! He’s going to have to face it at some point. 

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really rough, i apologize


	2. 2

We continued as we had before- not looking at each other, me trying to talk to him only to be brushed off, and us ultimately avoiding each other as much as possible. Only… It’s somehow become more awkward. Maybe it's just me because my attempts to make amends got brushed to the side every time, without fail. 

I hope it’s not just me. The thought that it could be makes me feel alone. Luckily, I’m rather used to that feeling, so it’s easy to cope. Drink Buddy’s expensive liquor. Sulk in a corner. Stare at a wall instead of sleeping. Rinse and repeat. It’s the same routine I always fall into, except with much better alcohol. Mick and Sasha always insisted that it only made me more alone and that it was unhealthy, but I suppose that’s the point. Push everyone away, until there’s no one left to disappoint.

Because I always seem to disappoint in the end. Everyone from Ma to Nureyev, everyone I’ve ever come into contact with have always ended up disappointed and angry. Obviously, I’m the common factor. So I might as well work to actively remove myself from the equation. 

But this hurts more than normal, somehow. Like, it physically hurts. Being separated from Nureyev creates this weird dull ache in my lungs, and that’s not a hangover symptom- I would know. It’s very arguable that I deserve the pain. I’m a big ball of trauma, mommy issues, and a fear of commitment that no one should have to be around. And to even allow someone to be around me, to get close to me is a mistake that I should take the fall for. As the one who created the problems, it’s only fair that I’d be the one to shoulder the blame. Especially when it comes to Nureyev, bec-

A knock on my bedroom door interrupts my thoughts, cutting through my “brooding,” as others have called it. “Mistah Steel? Can- Can I come in?” Rita’s on the other side of the door, and she sounds worried. Which is a waste of her time, honestly. 

“If you really want to, you can. Wouldn’t recommend it though. It’s not the cleanest in here.” As she came in, (of course she came in) she wrinkled her nose, glancing over the dirty dishes, days old laundry, and empty liquor bottles scattered across the floor. 

“My goodness, you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said it wasn’t too clean in here! I uh, just wanted to check in on you. You haven’t come out of your room for a few days now, and everyone’s getting a little worried.” Rita stepped over and around a few piles of trash and sat down on the chair next to my bed. “Well, not everyone. Mostly Miss Buddy, an me, and Mistah Ransom.” I won’t lie- I perked up a little at that, actually looking at Rita now. 

“...Ransom? He was worried about me? Seriously? Listen, Rita, if this is a joke it’s not funny-” She shook her head quickly and smiled wide, her usual toothy grin.

“It’s no joke Mistah Steel. Actually, it was his idea for me to check up on you. Something or other about how you wouldn’t want to see him. But! Anyway, how’re you doing? Would you like help cleaning up? I’ll probably wanna grab a pair of gloves, but I’m more than willing to-” I let out a short laugh, shaking my head.

“It’s alright Rita, I can take care of it. Er, thank you though. I appreciate it.” Shooting her a smile, I scratched the back of my neck. 

“Alrighty then, if you insist! Miss Buddy wants you out for game night though, she says she’ll be very disappointed if you don’t show up again.” Standing up, Rita stepped back over the piles of trash and headed towards the door before turning back towards me. “And I hope you’re feeling better. It’s not healthy for you to spend all day locked up in your room like this.” With that, she left, leaving me alone in my disgusting room once again.

God I should probably shower. I wouldn’t be surprised if I smelled. It’s been days. 

Flopping back on my bed, I stared up at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. He was worried about me. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t fuck up completely. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix things.

At this point I might just be okay as friends, as long as he’ll look at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another rough chapter, but I really appreciate the kudos on chapter 1!! it means a lot, considering the fact that I genuinely haven't written anything in years. also apologies for this being so short-


	3. 3

Dinner was rather uncomfortable, as no one seemed to be able to keep a conversation going between the worried glances they snuck at me when they thought I wasn’t looking. Even Vespa looked a little concerned, and that scared me a little. Since when did she care about how I felt? It’s all made worse by the fact that I don’t like to eat with people looking at me, so I’ve only taken a few damn bites of whatever this is that Rita made. It’s always...interesting when she cooks, but it’s not bad. 

“Juno?” Buddy’s voice rings full of concern as she looks at me across the table. “Is there anything you did today that you’d like to share?” No one’s looking at me now, except Nureyev. He’s smiling encouragingly, and that smile makes me bite back the snarky comment that almost came out. 

“Well, I uh- I cleaned up my room? I’m sure Rita probably told you how much of a mess it was. And I didn’t get wasted, so that’s something.” I smiled, crooked as always. “Well, not entirely wasted. But it’s still something.” Everyone nodded and went back to eating, and by the time I look back at Nureyev he’s already left the room, empty plate left on the table. Typical. It’s okay. We’re obviously getting somewhere, considering everything. 

I helped Rita clean the dishes while she babbled about one of her streams, something about an evil archive and fear demons? I wasn’t paying much attention, it doesn’t really seem like my thing, but at least it got me out of my own head for a while, which was nice. I retreated to my room almost as soon as I could, though, because I was pretty much exhausted. I’ve barely slept these past few days, my thoughts eating away at me. An early night would probably do me some good. 

Except, when I get back to my room, Peter Nureyev is sitting in the chair next to my bed, looking expectantly at the door. “Well, there go my plans for going to bed early. Y’know, it’s rather rude to pretend someone doesn’t exist for a week and then show up in their room.” My tone was half-joking, half-serious. If he refused to let me off the hook, I’d do the same. 

“That’s… That’s why I’m here, Juno. I want to apologize- because you certainly deserve an apology. I acted rather childish, which is a real twist because it’s usually you that-” He stopped with a sigh, shaking his head a little. “Nevermind. But I’m sorry. I did the same thing you did to me, and I pushed you away. And while I have reasons, there’s nothing I can really say that excuses it.” Guilt is plastered all over his face, and it’s very clear that he means every word. The mask is gone, and the real Peter Nureyev is who sits in front of me right now. And that makes me feel a lot of things at once; confused, concerned, extremely happy, and slightly apprehensive.

“Listen, you don’t need to apologize. It’s fine. I did fuck up, and I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me forever because of it. It’s not like it would be anything new.” I moved towards my bed as I spoke, sitting down and staring at the floor. “But if you really mean it, I would like to use this opportunity to ask for a second chance.” He didn’t answer for a little bit, and a minute probably passed in silence, both of us staring at the floor.

“I think… I think a second chance could work. If that’s what you really want-” Nureyev’s eyes caught mine, and a small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips. I barely finished nodding before he pulled the chair closer and kissed me softly, the scent of his cologne filling my nose as I kissed him back. It’s rather comforting to be able to smell it again- it was nice and I’d missed it. But he pulled away too soon, moving next to me on the bed. I pushed close to him, resting my head on his shoulder. It’s a little bony, but it’s fine. I just want to be close to him. We sat like that for a few moments, just melting against each other, until he spoke again. “When you left, I was worried that it was my fault, initially. I eventually chalked it up to you having commitment issues and an unreasonable need to save the city that continued to screw you over, no matter what you did. Which I’m assuming is rather accurate-” I snorted softly, nodding. “And that let me push it out of my head and keep going, without being too hurt. But the moment you showed up at the Carte Blanche… A little voice in the back of my head resurfaced, telling me that it was my fault you left, that there was something wrong with me, or that you didn’t even actually have feelings for me, and that I allowed you to play me just like I’d played so many people in the past during a job.”

All I could manage was a soft, “Oh,” when he stopped, wrapping an arm around me. “God, Nureyev, I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I should’ve left a note or something, an explanation- Or I should’ve just stayed. That’s what I really should have done. But in all honesty, I just panicked. And that’s nowhere near a good excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just scared. I was scared to leave behind Hyperion City, even though I couldn’t tell you why. I was scared that you’d grow tired of me, and I’d be left behind. And if you did, I probably wouldn’t have been able to blame you- It’s not like I deserve you, or anyone really. I appreciate the second chance, but I have no damn clue why you’d even give me another one because god knows I’ll probably screw up this time too.” Sometime while talking, I must’ve forgotten to breathe, because I ran out of breath and my lungs ached as a tear trickled down my cheek. 

“Juno, dear-” He kissed my cheek, hand wrapping around mine and squeezing. “We both have things to work on, you’re not the only one who’s damaged. And I’d like to promise to work on my flaws if you promise to work on yours. We can do it together. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Yeah,” I smiled softly, looking up at him. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would very much appreciate comments,,,,,


	4. 4

“Mm, hey Ransom? You’re getting a little close there, ain’tcha?” I turned my head to flash Nureyev a smile before flicking some water at him as I fill up a measuring cup with it. He’s directly behind me, arms wrapped around my waist so tight I can hardly move. 

“What’s that Juno, you want me to get closer?” I can feel his smirk as I shut off the water, and he presses even closer to me before planting a soft kiss on the top of my head. I roll my eyes and try to shrug him off. He takes the cue and lets go, allowing me to continue working on the brownies I’ve been making. 

“You’re so clingy, and besides, I thought you said that you wanted to learn how to bake brownies. You really can’t learn anything if you’re holding onto me so tight that I can’t bake.” He lets out a small laugh and reaches to dip his finger into the batter, which leads me to immediately smacking his hand away. “Ah-ah, I don’t think so Mister, keep your fingers out of my brownie batter. I don’t want you touching anything- Knowing you, you’ll find a way to set it on fire even without a source of ignition.” 

“But Juno, dear, I feel bad I wasn’t able to help! It’s a gentleman’s job to assist his lady, and you’ve done all of the work. You should at least let me pour the batter into the pan!” Pouting, Nureyev shot me puppy dog eyes in a rather feeble attempt to convince me. 

“I cannot believe I’m witnessing a grown man making that face. Fine, you can pour the batter into the pan. But if you spill any, I won’t let you eat any, which would be a shame. They’re the best brownies in the entire galaxy.” I stepped to the side and let go of the bowl, handing him the spatula. “Make sure to scrape the bowl too.”

As he concentrated on getting every last drop of batter into the pan (which was, of course, unnecessary, but endearing), I couldn’t help but stare. This gorgeous man with a jawline so sharp it could hurt, ridiculously soft hair, and the most dangerously alluring smile I’ve ever seen just happened to be mine. It’d been weeks since we decided to give us a second chance, and it’s actually going really well. We’ve figured out how to communicate, and when plain conversation doesn’t do it, we work out other ways. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but…

Before I knew it, Nureyev had placed a massive glob of batter on my nose, grinning like a madman. “Juno, dear, I believe there’s a little something on your nose-” I stuck my tongue out at him and rolled my eyes, before reaching over to grab a handful of flour.

“Oh really, I hadn’t noticed.” And with a smirk, I dropped the flour on top of his head. “You seem to also have a little something in your hair.” Biting back a laugh, he scoffed and pressed his hand against his chest, looking as offended as someone about to burst into laughter can.

“How rude! You know my appearance is the second most important thing to me, and now you’ve ruined it! Simply ruined it!” His little act was made ten times funnier by the fact that he was just wearing a blue button-up pajama shirt and a pair of my boxers. He crossed his arms, pulling himself up to sit on the counter. 

“The second most important thing? What’s the first?” I grinned up at him, leaning against the counter next to him.

“How about you take a guess?” A small smirk appeared on his face as he looked down at me, sharp teeth glinting in the bright light of the kitchen. “I’m sure you’ll never get it.”

“Hmm… Is it money?” I got a little closer, hand resting on his leg.

“Nope!” 

“What about… your reputation?” I pulled myself up onto the counter, cocking my head as I looked at him.

He shook his head, grinning. “Not even close.”

Sliding into his lap and tilting my head back to look at him, I pretended to think long and hard. “Is it me? I certainly hope it’s me.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“No, sorry dear. It happens to be the brownies you’ve neglected to put into the oven.” With that, he shoves me off his lap, causing me to fall flat on my ass. Standing up, he grabs the pan of brownie batter and actually manages to put it in the oven without burning himself. Except…

“Hey, uh, babe?”

“Yes, dear?”

“That’s the dishwasher, not the oven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was feeling super soft when I wrote this, so uhhh
> 
> also the whole nureyev can't cook thing is something I LIVE for and will never let go


End file.
